


Hall of Mirrors

by Vehuel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Carnival, Horror, Mirrors, POV Second Person, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehuel/pseuds/Vehuel
Summary: They say that the old Hall of Mirrors in the local carnival is haunted. They say that people disappear in there, never to come back again. They say that people just go in, and never go back out.Out like a light, and just as silent.You don’t believe them.





	Hall of Mirrors

They say that the old Hall of Mirrors in the local carnival is haunted. They say that people disappear in there, never to come back again. They say that people just go in, and never go back out.  
Out like a light, and just as silent.  
You don’t believe them.  
You don’t believe in ghosts, and things that go bump in the night. There’s nothing supernatural in the world. There’s no God, no demons, no angels, no spirits.  
Just people, and the horror they bring.  
So, you don’t believe them.  
You laugh at their scared faces, at their hushed murmuring, at the terror in young children’s eyes.  
You are not stupid, you don’t believe in fairy tales and horror stories.  
This is the reason why, when they dare you to go there, alone, at night, you accept.  
It’s just a carnival.  
It’s just an old Hall of Mirrors.  
You enter the grounds with little fanfare, the old gates left open by the custodian – after the rumours started, no one dares to go there at night, not even to vandalise or ransack the buildings – not even producing a noise in the warm, summer night.  
The old Hall of Mirrors is just around the corner, right after the cotton candy stall.  
The empty carnival is creepy, but you’re not worried. It’s scary in the way all popular buildings are, the brain’s so accustomed to seeing crowds and colours and rumours that the sight of only darkness and emptiness unsettles it.  
Silence.  
The Hall of Mirrors is just a plain old building, the paint peeling and faded, the old doors lacking a lock.  
You enter, and turn on the light.  
Dozens of you welcome your entrance, the lightbulbs in the mirror almost blinding coming from all around you. Dozens of thousands of reflections, innumerable versions of you staring out, watching.  
There’s nothing there.  
You walk in, hands in front of you to avoid bumping into mirrors. After all, your sense of perception is kind of screwed inside here.  
Fingers brushing against cool glass, you walk through the room, alone with your reflections, light all around you.  
You are almost at the end – you can see the exit sign glowing blurry green at your right, when you feel _it_.  
You don’t _hear_ anything, don’t _see_ anything, but _feel_ something.  
Tension climbs slowly with spidery legs up your back, goose bumps exploding all over your bare arms, and you still, your lizard brain rearing its head with force and all but screaming at you to fucking _run_. It doesn’t want you to look. Just go.  
You don’t.  
You’re too curious.  
You’re not an animal, you don’t listen to your instincts, you have a brain and inner voice and all you want right now is satisfy your curiosity.  
Slowly, you turn around.  
The reflection in front of you had turned around just as slowly as you, but it’s all _wrong_ _**wrong**_ _**WRONGWRON-**_  
The other you – _**ITCAN’TBEYOULOOKATITSLEGSTHEY’RETWISTEDLOOKATITSEYES**_ – smiles, edges of scarred lips brushing decaying ears, sharp teeth gleaming black in the light, and speaks, voice like thousands of bells and just as beautiful.  
“Do you want to play a game?”  
.  
.  
.  
You lose.  
But the reflection is nice, and invites you to play another game.  
You play some more.  
.  
.  
.  
The sound of footsteps distracts you from your game.  
Slowly, you turn around.  
The reflection in front of you had turned around just as slowly as you, but it’s all _wrong_ _**wrong**_ _**WRONGWRON-**_  
The other you – _**ITCAN’TBEYOULOOKATITSLEGSTHEY’RESTRAIGHTLOOKATITSEYES**_ – seems startled, but you smile, open and wide, trying to appear not-threatening.  
You’ll make it right.  
Before the other can speak, you open your mouth, alluring voice coming out.  
“Do you want to play a game?”

**Author's Note:**

> This came out last night, and wouldn't go away. I finished writing it this morning, and I'm not quite sure how it worked out.  
> Let me know!


End file.
